Right after my husband left for his business trip, my six-year-old gripped my hand and quietly said, “Mom… we can’t go back home. This morning I heard Dad on the phone, talking about something that involves us and it didn’t sound right.” So we didn’t go back.

Inside were stacks of cash and a burner phone. There was also a small black ledger.

“Take it all,” I whispered.

Toby knelt by a loose floorboard in the corner. He pried it up and pulled out an envelope.

“There is more here,” he whispered.

That was when we heard heavy footsteps on the floor below us.

“Boss said to make sure no one left anything behind,” a man’s voice echoed.

“The safe is open,” another man shouted from the hallway.

Toby’s eyes were wide with terror. We slipped into the closet and pulled the door shut just as a flashlight beam swept the room.

“Footprints,” the man said. “Small ones.”

“Call Dominic right now,” the other one ordered.

From outside, we heard a woman scream. It was Sarah.

The men cursed and ran toward the stairs. I did not wait a second longer.

We bolted out the back and ran through the dark until we reached the car. Sarah was already inside with the engine running.

“Did you get the ledger?” she gasped.

I showed her the backpack. We sped away into the night.

Back at the office, we opened the ledger. It contained dates, names, and amounts.

“Final solution,” one entry read. “Insurance payout. Fire set for Thursday.”